


burn it down

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pyrokinetic!Courfeyrac, Riots, Seer!Joly, Sorcerer!Combeferre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1535513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joly has a vision that their rally is going to turn violent. Enjolras pushes on anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burn it down

Joly greets them at the Musain in the morning with, "Don't go to the rally."

The group collectively turns to Enjolras, who has his jaw set. Combeferre frowns, knowing that there is nothing and no one who would be able to talk Enjolras out of attending. Not when they've been planning this rally for weeks.

"If you would prefer not to go to the rally," Enjolras tells the room as a whole, looking at Joly and then everyone else in the group. "I will not think any less of you. I am attending. Those of you who will join me, I appreciate it. Those of you who will not, perhaps next time."

Bahorel slams his fist down on the table with a loud thump. "I'm in. I don't care what they're going to do to us. I'm ready for it."

"I'm with you," Combeferre tells Enjolras with a hand on his shoulder. "As I always am."

"Me too," Courfeyrac adds. "Hey Joly, I don't suppose your vision told you what we need to be prepared for?"

Joly shakes his head. "I just know that it's going to turn violent."

" _Bring it_ ," Bahorel grins, his fists shifting into rock. 

"Down, boy," Jehan murmurs, placing a hand on Bahorel's. "That comes later."

"We are keeping this rally peaceful for as long as we can," Enjolras tells the group. "We are not escalating matters unless the authorities do first."

"Remember that violence is only going to harm our cause," Combeferre says. "We aren't going to convince anyone that we shouldn't have tighter regulations on our magic if we proceed to use our magic to hurt people."

Bahorel nods a little reluctantly. 

"That said," Courfeyrac adds, "if anyone tries to hurt _you_ , torch the fuckers."

The majority of the room cheers. Bossuet claps Joly on the back, who smiles uncertainly in response. Grantaire simply snorts and unscrews his hip flask, pouring its contents into his coffee. Combeferre finds Courfeyrac's hand, squeezing gently, and wonders just how badly this is going to go.

:·:

Combeferre isn't even surprised when he sees that their entire group is at the rally, Joly and Grantaire included. He and Courfeyrac are busy getting everything set up with Enjolras and though he knows better than to say it aloud, he's glad that he has Courfeyrac in sight. He worries about this every single time they go to rallies, despite the fact that he knows Courfeyrac is more than capable of taking care of himself. Perhaps it's the fact that he knows, without doubt, that this rally is going to go bad. Joly may not get visions frequently but when he does, they're always accurate. On top of that, Combeferre knows just how strongly Courfeyrac feels about the new law that the government is trying to pass, ensuring that every single instance of magic is reported and recorded.

For the past month, Courfeyrac has burned every single notice they have received about it and has set fire to posters that he's seen about the subject. Combeferre can only imagine how badly Courfeyrac will react if he comes toe to toe with a police officer who feels particularly violent.

"I can hear you thinking from here, you know," Courfeyrac tells him. "Well, I can't _literally_ hear you thinking. Considering I am not a telepath."

"Thank every god from every religion for that," Combeferre mutters.

"Very funny. My point is that you don't have to worry about me, okay?"

"You know what? I can't think of even one single situation in which you've said that and it hasn't caused me to worry even more," Combeferre replies. "I just don't want you to get yourself hurt, okay?"

"And I don't want you to get hurt either," Courfeyrac replies, turning to Combeferre and standing on his tiptoes to kiss him briefly. "I love you, okay?"

"I love you too," Combeferre replies. "I want you to stay right by my side, okay?"

"Are you talking about the rally or are you talking about our lives?" Courfeyrac asks with a grin.

Combeferre snorts quietly and presses a kiss to Courfeyrac's forehead. "Both, really. But right now, I'm mostly concerned about the rally. And what's going to follow."

"I'll be right here," Courfeyrac tells him, squeezing Combeferre's hand. "I promise you."

:·:

Enjolras' speech, loud enough that the entire crowd assembled can hear thanks to Combeferre's spell, is almost complete when the police storm the area. Feuilly is ready with his cameras, hovering around the crowd and snapping photos that will come in handy later, when the group is making a point about how the rally was a peaceful one before they were interrupted.

Grantaire runs up onto the stage, grabbing Enjolras' arm and Combeferre barely has the time to stop the spell he's cast on Enjolras' voice before they start arguing. Grantaire is turning invisible and clearly intends to turn Enjolras invisible with him. Enjolras yanks his arm out of Grantaire's grip and even from a distance, Combeferre can hear his emphatic, " _No_!"

"Combeferre," Courfeyrac says, grasping his hand tightly.

The riot squad has already reached the edges of the crowd, their shields and batons raised. Feuilly snaps more photos and Combeferre is glad that they managed to spread the word to all the attendees that they aren't to turn violent unless they are pushed. 

To absolutely no one's surprise, the riot squad pushes.

The first magic shields go up in flashes of colour and Combeferre smiles to himself. The fact that they're starting with defensive magic is going to make an impact when this is reported later. They've all come into this knowing that they're not going to get out of it peacefully so the least that they can do is make sure that they can use this to further their campaign. Enjolras probably already has an article for their website written at the back of his mind and all they need are the photos that Feuilly is going to take. 

The shields hold for a while, until the magical division of the riot squad come out, breaking their way through with their own magic. Combeferre tenses and feels Courfeyrac make an aborted movement beside him, already eager to join the fray. 

One of the riot squad's spell casters lobs a fireball at one of Feuilly's cameras, only to have it fizzle out. Bossuet is standing beside Feuilly, hands glowing as he puts all of his magic into shielding the cameras. Joly is standing in front of them both, wielding a protest sign like he's ready to use it as a weapon. Combeferre has seen him defend Bossuet with less before.

"Come on," Courfeyrac mutters, when the attack has turned into an all-out fight. "I'm not just going to stand back and if I'm going, you're coming with me, right?"

"Right," Combeferre says, grateful for the fact that Courfeyrac grabs his hand and pulls him forward as they head towards the thick of the fight.

Combeferre throws stunning spells around with his free hand, making the police officers drop when they're standing, before they can do harm. He gets a few grateful nods in his direction for it and he's too busy carefully aiming a spell at an officer on the other side of a small group that he doesn't see the one behind him until he's grabbed by the shoulders.

" _Combeferre_!" Courfeyrac cries as they're pulled apart and that's enough of a motivator to have Combeferre struggling against the arms pushing him down, throwing punches instead of spells when he can't quite see where they're going.

He gets punched across the face hard enough that his ears ring. He thinks he can hear Courfeyrac screaming and tries to look around for him, but the next punch sends his glasses flying and he can't see anything at all. He tries to cast a spell to compensate for his blurred vision, but it's too complicated to think of in the middle of a fight and then he feels a sharp pain at the back of his head.

The last thing he remembers before he blacks out is a sudden surge of heat and his lips forming the words, "No, Courfeyrac—"

:·:

Combeferre wakes up in hospital and hears a shaky breath that he immediately recognises to be Courfeyrac.

"You woke up." Courfeyrac grips Combeferre's hand with both of his. "You woke up, oh Combeferre."

"Are you crying?" Combeferre mumbles, still feeling a little fuzzy. He pulls gently on Courfeyrac's hand. Courfeyrac gets out of his chair, wrapping his arms around Combeferre. 

"You wouldn't wake up. They couldn't find anything wrong with you but you _wouldn't wake up_ and I—" Courfeyrac presses his lips together and they're close enough together that Combeferre can see his eyes shining with tears again. "I was scared."

"It's alright," Combeferre tells him, slowly sitting up and shuffling to one side of the bed so Courfeyrac can climb in beside him. "It's fine, I think I was just hit on the back of the head at the same time someone cast a particularly nasty stunning spell on me. Probably not the best combination."

Courfeyrac burrows into Combeferre's side, clinging to him. "There were three of them against you and you can bet I roasted all of them."

"By roasted, you mean…"

"I mean exactly what you think I do," Courfeyrac grins. "I set the fuckers on fire. Weren't too interested in hitting you after that."

"No, they would have been hitting you instead," Combeferre says lowly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, they didn't touch me. Between Enjolras and myself, we managed to talk my way out of getting arrested too. This is going to cause enough of a shit storm in our favour as it is. Can you imagine what Enjolras would be like if you got knocked out and I got arrested?"

Combeferre shudders in genuine horror. "I don't think I want to."

"And luckily," Grantaire's voice speaks up, "you don't need to."

Combeferre and Courfeyrac immediately look up and Grantaire materialises in the doorway, along with Enjolras.

"Good thing about invisibility," Grantaire says, "is that it comes in really handy when you want to break the rules. They're only letting one visitor in with Combeferre at a time and we disagreed."

"How are you feeling?" Enjolras asks, and Combeferre can't quite make their figures out clearly, but he's pretty certain that Enjolras doesn't pull his hand out of Grantaire's grip. "We were concerned when you didn't wake up initially. Joly did a quick check and told us that it was probably a stronger stunning spell than usual, but Courfeyrac was beside himself."

"I was," Courfeyrac agrees, nodding. 

"I brought your spare pair of glasses," Enjolras says, walking closer to the bed and pulling the case out of his pocket.

" _Thank you_ ," Combeferre murmurs, putting them on. Casting magic with a fuzzy head is a bad idea and he isn't particularly eager to see what happens when a vision spell goes wrong. "Have you written up the article yet?"

"I have," Enjolras nods. "Feuilly managed to take some very moving photos and thanks to Bossuet, we got all of his cameras home safely. It's already trending."

"Good," Combeferre smiles. 

"I heard them saying that they'll let you out soon, after making sure that nothing else is wrong with you," Grantaire speaks up. "You should be home soon enough."

"Thank you, that's very good to hear," Combeferre nods. "If there's no other pressing matters to discuss… I'll see you when I'm discharged?"

Enjolras nods, reaching out and squeezing Combeferre's shoulder. "I'm glad you're okay. I was terrified for a while."

Combeferre smiles, covering Enjolras' hand with his own. "Sorry about that. I'll try not to scare you again." 

Enjolras walks back to Grantaire, taking his hand. He nods at Combeferre one last time before he and Grantaire go invisible again.

"Seriously though," Courfeyrac murmurs, resting his head on Combeferre's shoulder. "Please never scare me like that again. I don't even care what the aftermath of this riot means for our cause, I just never want to see you go down like that ever again."

"That's a lie and you know it," Combeferre replies. "About not caring about the outcome. I know you care, just like I care. If me being attacked helps sway public opinion, then I'm going to be happy that at least it achieved something."

"Never again, though," Courfeyrac says seriously. "And to think you were worried about _me_."

"I always worry about you. No more near-arrests for setting police officers on fire."

"As long as you don't get yourself knocked out by them again."

With a quiet snort, Combeferre kisses Courfeyrac's forehead. "Deal."


End file.
